Maybe Someday
by V. Emily
Summary: Started as a one-shot reflecting on episode 3x22, but I've turned it into a three- or four-chapter mini-series. Deeks has prepared a speech to give Kensi, but when a visit to the pier goes horribly awry, will they both even survive the night?
1. Chapter 1

**There appear to be a few of these floating around already…I got the episode a day late, so I got a later start than I'd like. Oh well! I hope you enjoy this short little fluffy piece. I appreciate your reviews! Thanks! **

** Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: LA, or else you might've seen this in Tuesday's episode. :D **

Isn't it funny how quickly a solid resolution can be completely turned around?

Staring down at the wedding ring, its shiny-new diamond clashed against the velvety black jewelry box in which it was contained, Kensi remembered the last time she'd been given one. Well, "given" wasn't quite the right word for it. "Offered" more suited it, but regardless, Kensi had accepted the ring, heart soaring as Jack had slid it onto her finger. He'd promised her then and there that he'd be hers forever, that as soon as he returned from his deployment, they'd be married. For months Kensi had dreamed of walking up that aisle. The mental picture of Jack in his tuxedo, sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows of the church, hymns being played softly on the old organ as she paid careful attention not to tread on her pristine dress...that image had kept her sane as she waited out Jack's deployment. And after that horrible Christmas, that same sanity-sustaining image had almost driven her out of her mind.

Kensi had promised herself that she no longer needed - nor wanted - to see a diamond ring on her finger again. And because of _Deeks_? Certainly not...even if she sometimes felt like there was nothing she wanted more, surely it was out of reach. There was just no way they'd even get near that point. "And," Kensi reminded herself. "You don't _want _to ever get to that point."

But after that op, Kensi had her doubts - about both the desire and the actual possibility. At first, going into that mission, Kensi had felt pangs in her heart. After all, might she and Jack be living in a gorgeous house, living a gorgeous life - just like Melissa and Justin's - by this time, if he hadn't left her? Every time she'd opened her eyes to this false reality, she'd seen a bit of it that could have been hers and Jack's, if time and love had allowed.

Soon enough, however, Kensi had seen: Deeks was most certainly not like Jack at all. As the days passed and their cover deepened, Kensi just couldn't replace her partner with her ex-fiancee, no matter how she tried. She quickly saw that Deeks was a different kind of amazing. And the longer they stayed Melissa and Justin, the stronger Kensi found herself wishing that it wasn't just an undercover op.

She'd even confided in Deeks about this, shortly after Serena's garage death. Kensi was surprised when he offered a smile, and she allowed herself to think for a moment that he'd been wishing some of the same things. Of course, the heart-to-heart had to be interrupted by a pesky neighborhood kid. So much for that.

When Kensi had kissed her partner - a cover kiss, as she'd had to assure him - her suspicions had been confirmed. Deeks obviously was squeamish about the whole ordeal...but a good kind of squeamish, Kensi decided. He wasn't repelled, and that was something, right?

Sighing, Kensi closed the little black box and left it on Hetty's unoccupied desk before she left the NCIS building. It wasn't hers, after all. It belonged to Melissa, and Melissa was just a alias created by authorities, like a storybook character created by an author. Time to turn the page and close the book on this particular op, then.

Deeks had yet to return his own wedding band, but as he loitered outside the NCIS building, he was more hung up on the latest mission than anything else. He'd of course loved acting the part of Justin, as he (and everyone else, no doubt) had suspected he would. Part of him - an undeniably and unfortunately large part - had wanted to really live the fantasy. The problem was Kensi herself. She'd obviously given up on serious romances seven years ago. Being Deeks didn't make him any exception.

Sometimes he had to wonder if that last statement was true. She was so hard to read - one day, when he has to pretend to be fired, she could be insisting, "I have something to say..." and later, when they get the 'unfamiliar feelings and emotions' talk from Hetty, she could assure them, "Not in a million years." What meant "I love you" and what meant "stay away"? Deeks couldn't tell, and it often bothered him.

"You won't know until you try," someone had once said. Could that be true with Kensi, too, or was there a footnote somewhere that read, 'Do not attempt with ferocious brunette NCIS partners'? Which brought him back to the original adage - "You won't know until you try."

"Try how?" Deeks muttered aloud, fingering the cold wedding band. Then, looking at the ring, he got a very risky thought. "No, no way," he murmured to nobody in particular. Well, maybe to the tall shrub in whose shadow he was hiding. "Not happening. Can you imagine?"

That was the risky part: he _could _imagine, and he liked what he was imagining. In fact, he'd been living a lot of that fantasy for the undercover op. Deeks had, honest-to-goodness, enjoyed it. He wouldn't mind a reality like that - without the Russian sleeper agents and disturbing neighbors, of course. But would Kensi mind it? That was the question he needed the answer to, and the question he felt confident he would never ask.

Oddly enough, his thoughts drifted to Ray, his best friend, who by now was a father. He had been given the chance at a semi-normal life, and he'd run with it. Staring at the ring in his hand, Deeks wondered if Kensi might be his own chance, and what his ending might be if he let her slip away. Deeks couldn't help making the comparison of his wedding band to the lookalike One Ring of Power from _The Lord of the Rings_. A very dangerous tool, for sure, that only one being could both wield and fully control. Nevermind that the being happened to be evil; that wasn't the point he was trying to make. His point was that this ring could be extremely dangerous.

"You won't know until you try," Deeks thought. "And what harm is there in trying?"

So he drew a conclusion.

"Maybe someday," he murmured. "Then we'll see."

Kensi almost wouldn't have seen her partner, hiding in the shadows of a well-pruned shrub, as she walked to her car. But a little glint of gold in his palm gave him away. Kensi smiled and looked at him for one long moment before turning back to unlock her vehicle, a fantasy stirring in her head. It was like the image she'd often conjured of her and Jack and her on their wedding day, the one she'd imagined when she missed him on his deployment. Except the man at the altar wasn't Jack anymore.

"Well," she thought as she turned the key and started the car. "Maybe someday."


	2. Chapter 2

**A couple of you have commented that I should continue this...heck, I'm done with my homework. Let's do this thing. **

**Read, enjoy, review, repeat! XD Thanks, guys!**

Three years later:

A particularly trying case has just been wrapped up - a Marine, his wife priorly kidnapped, had almost been killed when NCIS had stormed the criminals' hideout. Fortunately, Deeks and Kensi had been able to get to where he was being held as Callen and Sam fended off the attackers, and the Marine had been returned home safely. His wife was found at a location that Eric and Nell had linked to the same band of villains, traumatized for sure but otherwise unharmed. All in all, it has been a long day, but the end result is worth it, as always.

As they pack up to leave that night in the bullpen, Kensi and Deeks exchange glances from their respective desks. Callen exhales deeply, swinging his bag over one shoulder and standing up.

"Well, I think a beer and some sleep are in order," says the agent. "Night Kensi, night Deeks. Sam, can I hitch a ride?"

"That depends; can you pay?" Sam asks him, raising a mocking eyebrow. Callen chuckles and proceeds to leave the bullpen.

Sam pauses for a moment to stare at Deeks seriously. Finally, he gives a subtle elbow to the detective's ribs and then follows his partner out of the building. Deeks swallows, chewing on the inside of his lip.

"What was that about?" Kensi asks, brow furrowed slightly as she gathers a few items from her desk into her bag.

"Oh, the elbow thing?" Deeks answers right away. "Nothing. I changed his voicemail to the chorus of 'Bohemian Rhapsody', that's all. Guess he finally figured it out. He's kind of ticked."

"Why the heck would you do that?" Kensi has to stifle a laugh as she reprimands her partner.

"Well, why not?"

"I guess I can't argue with that logic," Kensi shrugs, and the conversation ends. There is an awkward pause in which the air is still and tense between the two. Finally Deeks breaks it.

"What's up?" he asks, looking at her with mild concern. "You've been kind of quiet since we got back."

Kensi stares back for a minute before she reluctantly answers, "I've been thinking about the Marine and his wife. She was so scared when we finally found her, Deeks. She didn't care what was going to happen to her - she was only worried for her husband. She thought...that he wasn't coming back."

"Remind you of someone?" Deeks says quietly, more of a statement than a question. Kensi nods almost imperceptibly. "You don't need to still worry about Jack," he mentioned. "Really, you don't."

"I know," Kensi sighs. "And I don't, not all the time at least. It's been a decade, and I've moved on for the most part. But every now and then, with cases like this, he just crops up again."

"Frustrating, huh?" Deeks asks, shifting his bag over his shoulder. She nods again.

"I think I just need to go home," Kensi says with a wave of her hand. "Have some ice cream, watch some TV, order takeout, go to bed. That should do it."

And she starts to walk away. But Deeks steps directly behind her, grabbing her arm gently but firmly.

"No," he says. "No. That won't do it. It won't help."

"And why wouldn't it?" Kensi gives him a small glare, irritated, and tries to pull her arm away. He lets her do so.

"Because I know you," Deeks insists softly. "I know that won't make all your problems go away. Ben and Jerry's doesn't solve everything, you know."

"I'll try a different brand, then."

"Personally, I was hinting that you should drop the ice cream plan altogether."

"Well, if you're so sure ice cream won't work, then what will, Deeks?" Kensi asks him genuinely as she takes a step back to look at him. Her dark eyes, framed by wavy hair, are weary and sad.

"For one thing, you can talk about it," Deeks tells her. "I know, I know. I'm being very sappy. But really, you can tell me. I'm your partner."

"Gee, I'd forgotten," Kensi rolls her eyes and smiles a little, but then turns serious. "I guess it's worth a shot, though."

"Then step into my office," Deeks gestures to his desk with a flourish. He pushes Sam's chair closer to his and offers the seat to Kensi, who takes it. Kensi covers her mouth, hiding a grin.

"What's so funny?" Deeks asks, finding her smile contagious.

"I'm remembering that case from a few years ago, when the shop manager called you Dr. Phil."

"Well, fine," says the detective. "I can be Dr. Phil tonight, if you want."

"Please no. Just be Deeks, got it?"

"If that's what you'd prefer, okay."

Kensi takes a deep breath and begins, "I loved Jack. I did, really. Sometimes if I imagine him the way he was before his deployment, I still can make myself love him."

"But why?" Deeks wrinkles his forehead, perplexed already. "Why do you make yourself love him?"

"Because..." Kensi pauses to think, then speaks her answer slowly, "Because he loved me, too, at least before PTSD. All the promises he made me, I wanted to believe, and I still do, even now."

"Ever think that maybe it's not Jack you still love?" Deeks poses the question. "Maybe just the promises?"

Kensi thinks about this for a silence that spans what seems like an eternity. Her eyes flutter closed and she rests her elbows on Deeks's pristine desk, leaning her forehead in her palms.

"I never..." she murmurs quietly. "I never thought of it like that. I guess maybe you're right. Everything he swore to me - that he'd always be there, that he loved me, that he wanted to spend his life with me - I believed. And I can get past Jack himself now. But I still remember what he promised, and sometimes I wish he'd stuck to those promises. It just...it would be so different by now. Good different, I think, and I really wish it'd happened."

Deeks meets her eyes and takes a large draught of air through his nose. He continues, picking each word with precision and care, "I understand. What's wrong is that you're alone."

"Hey," Kensi smiles and gives him a friendly punch to the shoulder. "Who says I'm alone? I've got Sam, I've got Callen, and Eric, and Nell, and Hetty...and I've got you, don't I?"

"Yeah," Deeks replies, blinking rapidly and letting his eyes wander to the floor. He feels his palms start to become moist with sweat. _"Shoot," _he thinks to himself. _"Not now. Don't get nervous. Really, Deeks?"_

"Something wrong, Dr. Phil?" Now it's Kensi's turn to be concerned.

Deeks takes a sharp breath, looking almost startled by the question. "Kensi, I have to-" but he stops halfway through the sentence, feeling his fingers shaking even as they sit, folded, in his lap. One of his hands he forces to reach for his coat pocket, but he can't bring himself to make it go any further. Kensi cocks her head.

"What is it?" she asks. "What do you have to do?"

"_Say it!" _hisses a voice in Deeks's head._ "Just say it already! You can kill multiple criminals in one day, but you can't ask this woman one simple thing?"_

"_That's different," _a different conscience - a more cowardly one - whines._ "This is more difficult. Those are angry, armed, tattooed, spiteful bad guys. This is Kensi Blye!"_

The first voice has no legit argument, but adds, _"If you don't do it now, you'll regret it. Say it, Deeks. She wants to hear it, doesn't she?"_

But it's the 'doesn't she?' that keeps what he wanted to say from coming out.

"I have to get some dinner," he responds at last. "Does pizza sound okay to you?"

A week or two after this, the team finds themselves with another successfully-completed case. Deeks had spent the morning talking to his reflection in the bathroom mirror before coming into work. He fingers an object in his pocket as his teammates prepare to leave for the day.

"_You spent an hour prepping yourself for this," _Deeks thinks to himself. _"You can do this. Wait for Sam and Callen to leave, keep Kensi in the bullpen for just a few more minutes, and it'll all happen. You can do this. You're Marty Deeks and this is your partner. You can do this."_

He's so worked up and so confident by his own pep-talk that he replies, "Yes! Goodnight!" a little too forcefully when Callen and Sam announce that they're leaving. The two agents stare at him oddly for a beat, then shrug and walk away. Kensi snorts, amused.

"You've been acting weird today," she points out.

"Me? Weird? Nonsense," Deeks tries to come off as casual but fails horrifically. "I'm exactly the same as usual, yep. That's me. Darty Meeks - I mean Marty Deeks. Yeah. That's me."

"Are you sick or something?" Kensi asks, walking up to him and pressing a hand to his forehead. She's so close that Deeks thinks he might not be able to stand it any longer, but miraculously, he holds his own.

"Nope, not sick, not at all," Deeks vows. "In fact, I'm better than ever."

"Well, then, don't take this the wrong way...but we have different definitions of 'better than ever.'"

"Hey, uh, Kensi," Deeks interjects abruptly. "Do you want to...uh...take a walk?"

"Take a walk?" Kensi repeats. "To where?"

"To the, um, pier," answers Deeks. "Or anywhere, really, if you don't want to go to the pier. We could walk on the beach, or downtown, or just down the street. Anywhere in Los Angeles. Or even outside of Los Angeles, if you'd really prefer not to-"

"The pier is fine, Deeks," Kensi laughs. "Seriously. You need to wind down. You're really flustered tonight."

"_Gee, I wonder why?" _Deeks thinks dryly, and follows his partner out of the NCIS building. The pier is a short car ride away, and said car ride is punctuated only with awkward smalltalk. They both know that something is different this evening, but only Deeks knows what it is.

Upon arriving at the pier, Deeks parks the car and leads Kensi down the length of the boardwalk. The sun is just starting to set, casting orange and yellow rays across the horizon. The sea tumbles, light waves lapping onto the shore, nervous just like Deeks is. Kensi keeps her wary eyes on her partner, unsure of what he's worried about.

"Deeks, really, you're starting to freak me out," Kensi insists. "Are you sure you're alright? Why don't you just say whatever it is you need to say?"

Deeks nods, biting his lip, and begins, forcing himself to stay as calm as possible and not jumble words. Because these words, he knows, are the most important words that will ever come out of his mouth. He can make a mess out of every sentence he speaks for the rest of his life, as long as these few are absolutely perfectly worded, just as he'd practiced this morning.

"Kensi," he begins. "Look, you know you're really important to me. Extremely important. And I'd give my life for you, you know that, right?"

Kensi seems uneasy and perplexed, but nonetheless, she says, "Of course, Deeks. I'd do the same for you."

"Right," Deeks continues. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and about my friend Ray and how happy he is. He has Jenna. And Jenna, for him, makes every day worth living. I was thinking about how everybody wants to find someone like that, that makes you appreciate every day."

Deeks looks directly into her eyes with such sincerity that Kensi is taken aback.

"I realized a while ago that I already had that person," Deeks says softly. "Okay? It's you."

Kensi makes herself breathe, but it takes effort. It felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of her lungs - but it felt so good, at the same time.

"Deeks-"

"No, let me finish," he persists. "See, people like that don't usually come along more than once, if they even come at all. And I finally convinced my stupid, stubborn self that I can't just let go of you. I've been a cop for a while now, and I always accepted every time I went out that I might not come back. I was fine with it, and still am. You know how well-liked I am at LAPD...nobody there cares about what happens to me, and as horrible as it sounds I feel the same way about them. The thought of one of them dying wasn't a happy one, sure, but I didn't find it especially heart-wrenching. And I thought it'd be that way for anyone I ever worked with, but I was really wrong. If I ever lost you..."

"Deeks, please don't go there-"

"I need to!" Deeks says firmly. "I need to address it sometime because it's a big deal. Just listen to me, because you need to know this. If I ever lost you...I don't think I could do this anymore. Be a cop, work with the law, look at myself in the mirror, wake up happy in the morning, love anyone...I couldn't do it. Not without you."

"Please don't say that," Kensi begs. "We both know I could die as soon as tomorrow, could die on any given op. I don't want you to say that, because it could happen. If I ever died, I want you to be okay."

"And I want me to be okay, too," Deeks assures her. "But I don't think I could be. And like I said, I needed you to hear that." He pauses, and finds her hand before continuing. She doesn't pull her hand out of his own. Even in the cool evening air, his palm is clammy.

"I needed you to know how much I love you."

Kensi feels the need to steady herself, but regains her balance in time. For just a split second, fear wells up, memories of empty living rooms on Christmas morning, of a fiancee who never came back. But she makes herself shove those aside as she threads her own fingers with Deeks's, treasuring the sensation of his nervous and sweaty hand holding hers. This is new. This is Deeks. Jack can have no place here.

The silence drags on, and Kensi can't think of what to say. Deeks looks anxiously down at his partner.

"Please," he whispers. "Please say something."

But she never gets the chance. At that moment, several pairs of boots come thudding up the otherwise-empty pier. A man's voice, laden with a heavy accent, commands them firmly.

"Marty Deeks. Don't make a move."

The *click* of a handgun's safety switch turning off makes the detective's and the agent's skin go cold.

**Oops. Look at that, a cliffhanger. I guess I couldn't let Kensi and Deeks just be happy right off the bat, could I? I'm thinking of summing this up in the next chapter or two, so don't worry. I won't keep you hanging on for installments on end, promise!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here you go! One cliffhanger resolution. I hope you enjoy! :D **

"Farthinge," Deeks growls at the man who had spoken. "Wesley Farthinge. Out of jail, are we?"

"Stop talking!" barks the thug Deeks had addressed. "Not one word out of you or your girlfriend. I want you both to put your guns on the pier and put your hands behind your heads."

Kensi looked at Deeks with a question in her eyes. Deeks stared back and gave a sad but affirming nod.

"We don't have much choice," Deeks whispers to her.

"I said no talking!" shouts the criminal named Farthinge. "Surrender your weapons before I have one of my men force you to."

"Deeks," Kensi murmurs even as she pulls her gun from the holster under her coat. "Deeks, I need to tell you-"

"Shh," Deeks presses a finger to his lips and uses his free hand to place his gun on the pier's wooden boards. "Save it, princess. We'll talk later."

"Hands behind your heads!" Farthinge commands. When Deeks and Kensi have complied, Farthinge's four muscled cohorts rush forward to restrain them.

"Consider this repayment for landing me in jail," sneers Farthinge, gesturing for his men to lead the detective and the agent further towards the end of the pier.

"Considering," Deeks replies. "Don't worry about repaying me. I was only doing the world a favor. Really, you can let us go now."

"Shut up," Farthinge grumbles. "Just shut up. You're both going to suffer for all those years I had to spend locked up."

"That wasn't really my fault," Deeks comments. "You were the one who robbed a bank, so..."

"It doesn't seem like you've gotten any more tolerable, Detective," says the thug. "How does your girlfriend stand it?"

"Oh, yeah, speaking of that..." the detective adds. "She has absolutely nothing to do with you, Farthinge, so why not let her go?"

"You know exactly why not," Farthinge laughs. "She knows my name, Detective Deeks. And you think I'm just going to let her roam free with that knowledge? Oh, no, I don't think so. But don't worry. I promise you'll be buried at sea together."

"Buried at sea, huh?" Deeks raises an eyebrow. "Sounds pleasant. When are you planning on doing that?"

"About now," Farthinge replies, and Kensi and Deeks realize how close they've been pushed to the edge of the pier. Waves lap anxiously against the moldy support beams.

"You know, we _can _swim, Wesley," mentions Deeks. "Pushing us off the pier isn't going to kill us."

"No, perhaps not," Wesley shrugs. "I think a bullet to the head might, though."

"Someone will hear you," Kensi interjects, desperate but trying to stay calm. "Someone will hear the gun."

"Look around," advises one of Wesley's men. "Your boyfriend picked a very peaceful old pier, didn't he? Too peaceful for you, unfortunately. There's nobody around."

Kensi and Deeks settle into disturbed silence, each stealing a glance at the other. Kensi's eyes, to the detective's shock, are watering and threatening to spill over. Deeks knows it isn't because of the force with which Farthinge's men are holding her hands behind her back. She would never cry over something like that.

"Kens," Deeks asks quietly. "What's the matter?"

"It isn't fair," she murmurs, a tear falling down her cheek and splashing onto the pier inaudibly. "I was about to tell you...that I love you, Deeks. And I was happy, for just a minute, because I thought this could work. But now..."

She thinks she sees Deeks's face pale, but it could just be the setting sun's colorful rays shining on his features. But she knows for a fact that his blue eyes are glistening, just like hers are.

"You love me," he repeats in a breathy whisper. "You love me? Really?"

"Of course," Kensi manages a smile that contradicts the tears running down her face. "Of course I do, Deeks."

"How sweet," snickers Farthinge. "Well, now that that's out of the way, we can get on with things."

"No!" Deeks shouts abruptly. "Stop, wait. I need to do something still. Please, Farthinge. You happy? Because I'm begging, Wesley. I'm at your mercy and I'm begging. Satisfied?"

Farthinge's twitchy grin flickers across his scarred face as he thinks. "Fine," he says. "One thing. What is it you want to do? Don't attempt heroics - it'll only earn your death."

"Deeks," Kensi murmurs. "What is it? Do you have a plan?"

"No," Deeks replies loud enough for Wesley to hear. Instead of reaching for the gun that he had left lying on the pier, he wriggles a hand from the grasp of one of Farthinge's cohorts, and jams his fingers inside his coat pocket. Farthinge and his men are all immediately aware, aiming their guns at the detective's head.

"Really?" Deeks snorts. "Like I could fit a gun in this tiny coat pocket?"

He draws out a small black object, but Kensi can't tell what it is. Farthinge's minions reluctantly lower their guns.

"Get on with it," Farthinge demands, jutting out his chin towards Kensi. "Hurry up, or I'll shoot you right now."

"Okay," Deeks says resignedly, and turns to Kensi, fingering the object he had pulled from his coat. Kensi feels her heart skip a beat.

A jewelry box. A little black jewelry box.

"Do you mind?" Deeks scowls at the man restraining him.

"Release his hand," Farthinge tells the thug. "We have him dead-ended here anyway. You have two minutes, Detective."

"Kensi," begins Deeks hurriedly. "I really wish I could do this under different circumstances, but I think this is my last chance. I've known you six years, and I've loved you for every single day of them. I've been thinking about this for a long time, and even though it's not very important now - since we most likely won't live through the night - I can't go out without asking you this. I love you, Kensi."

"I love you too," Kensi responds shakily, feeling a tear drop onto her shirt. Because she is still restrained by one of Wesley Farthinge's men, she can't wipe her eyes.

"And that's why I need to do this," Deeks says, taking a deep breath.

He lowers himself onto one knee, the fabric of his jeans scraping the scratchy wooden boards. Kensi wrenches her hands from the thug's grasp, finding with surprise that he doesn't resist. Nothing - not even revenge-hungry criminals - is going to ruin this moment for her.

"Kensi Blye," Deeks announces, opening the jewelry box to reveal a sleek gold engagement ring fitted with a small but brilliant diamond. "However short a time I might have left, I want to spend it with you. What do you say, Fern? Marry me?"

Kensi bursts into full sobs, rubbing her eyes until she's sure she'll literally see red for a long time. She is only partly crying because of Deeks's proposal. Mostly, though, she is crying because she wants so badly to say yes and be able to live decades and decades with him as his wife. As it is, she will only have tonight, and will only ever be his fiancee.

"Is the crying good or bad?" asks Deeks, a familiar jester smile on his face. "Look, I know we're really in a bad position here, and I probably won't ever get to actually marry you. You can still say no. I just needed to ask, because I love you this much and I wanted to show you that. I was ready to propose tonight before these thugs showed up. So I'm asking, but you don't need to give me an answer."

"What?" Kensi opens her wet eyes to examine him. "Oh. I thought you already knew what my answer was."

Deeks cocks his head and looks at her inquiringly.

"And what answer would that be?" he asks, the light returning to his eyes that Kensi loves. "Do enlighten me."

"Yes," Kensi replies, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Yes, of course I'd marry you!"

Deeks stands up and hugs her close, letting one or two of his own tears fall on her hair. She pulls away just enough to kiss him. Deeks wraps his arms around her, reciprocating, and for just a moment, he can forget the thugs that want to kill them both. For just a moment, he can be the happiest man he's ever been.

When they pull away, Kensi extends her left hand, and Deeks removes the ring from the box with the intention of putting it on her finger. However, Farthinge stops him.

"Enough!" he commands. "Do not do that. Agents have all sorts of sneaky tricks. Give me that ring, and hand over the jewelry box."

Deeks and Kensi take a last longing look at the ring before the detective replaces it in its box and shoves it at Wesley Farthinge, who pockets it. Kensi begins to cry softly again before she can stop herself. Deeks wraps her in a comforting embrace.

"Don't cry," he whispers. "It's okay. It's okay, Fern. Don't cry."

"How will anyone know we were engaged before the end?" Kensi asks fearfully, burying her face in Deeks's neck. The detective can't find an answer.

"Now we can finish this," Wesley draws his gun, as does another of his cohorts.

"Jurgens," Wesley commands the other thug. "You get the girl and leave the detective to me. Shoot on my mark."

"Yes, boss," Jurgens affirms, taking careful aim at Kensi. "On your mark."

"Ready..." Wesley says. Deeks finds his partner and fiancee's hand.

"Set..."

Kensi squeezes his fingers and looks one last time into his blue eyes.

"Shoot!"

They don't close their eyes, wanting the final thing they see to be each other. The gunshot comes, but darkness doesn't. Long, still seconds pass, but Kensi and Deeks don't fall.

"I didn't feel a thing," Deeks realizes, wrinkling his forehead in confusion. "Are we dead yet?"

"If we are, heaven looks a lot like the pier," Kensi points out. Both partners allow themselves to turn and look at the thugs behind them. One of the criminals, Jurgens, is slapping handcuffs onto the other two and forcing them to lie face-down on the pier. Wesley Farthinge also lies in this position, but the fresh bullet wound in the back of his head tells Deeks and Kensi that handcuffing him won't be necessary.

"Who are you?" Deeks narrows his eyes and steps cautiously towards Jurgens.

"Harold Desmond, LAPD," says Jurgens, flashing a badge. "Wesley Farthinge escaped from a Los Angeles prison early this morning. I've been hunting him all day."

"Marty Deeks, LAPD-NCIS liaison," Deeks introduces himself. "We're really grateful for this. How come I wasn't notified that Farthinge had escaped? He was my case about a decade ago, after he robbed a bank."

Desmond thinks for a minute, then replies, "Bates had mentioned you were on a case with NCIS today, right?"

Deeks nods.

"There's your answer, then," Desmond confirms. "Can you guys give me a hand with these thugs?"

Deeks yanks one of Farthinge's accomplices to his feet, and Kensi manages with the other. Desmond radios LAPD to inform them of the shooting.

"My partner has the squad car parked two streets down," explains Desmond as they lead the criminals up the beach. "I'll show you where. So, Detective Deeks, who's your friend? Is she LAPD, too? She had a gun."

"I'm Agent Kensi Blye," says the agent. "NCIS; I'm Deeks's partner."

"Interesting," comments Desmond. "I have to ask, though: the proposal. Was it just an antic to buy time, or was it the real deal?"

"Real deal," Deeks and Kensi both say at once.

"Seriously?" laughs the LAPD officer. "Well, Detective, I guess that's _one_ way to propose."

"I was kind of running out of options," Deeks reminds him. "Had to take what I could get, right?"

"Right," Desmond nods. "What's your opinion, Agent Blye?"

"I don't think I really care," Kensi smiles at her partner. "As long as it was him."

"Now you're going all sappy," Deeks says. She elbows him friendlily. "Ow! Hey. If we're going to be married, you've got to stop inflicting physical pain."

"Says who?"

The three escort the thugs to Desmond's squad car, where they are secured by the officer's partner. Kensi calls and updates Hetty on the interesting events of the evening concerning Farthinge - but doesn't mention the proposal. _"Not just yet,"_ she thinks to herself. _"That can be done in person once we get back."_

Harold Desmond bids the team farewell, and thanks them again. Just then, Desmond remembers something, and stops to pull a familiar black object from his jacket pocket. He hands it to Deeks.

"I found this on Wesley Farthinge's person," Desmond tells him. "Thought you might want it back."

Deeks excitedly opens the jewelry box to find the diamond ring still glistening happily inside. He shows it to Kensi and offers her his left hand.

"My lady?" he asks in a faux British accent, making her laugh as she places her left palm on top of his. Deeks pulls the ring from the box with his free hand, then slides the ring onto her finger.

"Wow," Kensi sighs. "It's gorgeous, Deeks."

She pulls him into a hug as a grinning Desmond and his partner drive off.

"So, I guess I know why you were so nervous today," Kensi says with a grin.

"Was I really that on edge?"

"You said your name was Darty Meeks."

"Oh, right," Deeks laughs. "Well, it was worth getting nervous over, if you ask me."

"I agree," Kensi replies, examining the ring on her finger. "I wonder how the team will react."

"About that," says the detective slowly. "I kind of already told Sam."

"Sam? Why Sam?"

"I needed advice, and he's the only one who's married, so..."

"You stood up to _Sam_ to ask advice about _me_?"

"Well, one does crazy things when one's in love."

Kensi plants a kiss on his cheek. "Crazy can be good. But let's head back to the OSP now. I think I've had enough crazy for tonight, don't you think?"

"Agreed," Deeks links her hand with his, a feeling of relief washing over him. Just the fact that he gets to live the night - that _she_ gets to live the night - is payment enough for the scary experiences on the pier. He remembers the night three years ago, after their op as Melissa and Justin, when he stood outside the NCIS building, considering the fact of marriage. "_Maybe someday,"_ he had murmured. That night, Deeks had been so terrified at the idea of asking Kensi that all-important question. He'd said _"Maybe someday,"_ and had put it aside for so long. Sometimes, as he had learned tonight, you need to put fear aside and see things as for what they are. _"Someday,"_ could seem very scary.

But when the day finally came, you finally saw just how good it was.

**A/N: /sappysappysappy ...But I hope you liked it! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Reading the comments, I decided this could use a bit of closure. Here you go! Short, but there wasn't a lot left to do. Enjoy and review, please! :D**

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"What're they up to?" Callen leans back in his swivel chair, arms folded decidedly across his chest.

"With them, it could be anything," Sam says with a shrug, but he too is watching Kensi and Deeks carefully as they linger outside the bullpen. "Maybe they had a fight and just got over it, or maybe they're just having a good morning."

"I hope it's the first one," Callen admits. "When they're both having a good morning, they tend to start fighting. Why the heck they do that is still beyond me."

"Maybe they got a new assignment that they like," adds Sam thoughtfully.

"Undercover married? They haven't done one of those for a while."

"Yeah, that's gotta be it. Kensi has a ring."

"But Deeks doesn't?"

Sam squints to examine the detective's left hand from the safety of his desk. After a moment, he shakes his head.

"Nope."

"Undercover engaged, then."

"Looks that way."

After a brief silence, Callen points out, "They both do look really happy this morning."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," advises Sam with a chuckle. "Now they're going into Hetty's office. 'Unfamiliar feelings and emotions' lecture, I bet."

"Again?"

"They could use it."

"I still don't know how that lecture goes," reminds Callen.

"And I'm still not going to tell you," his partner replies. Sam's eyebrows knit into a confused scowl as he watches the two agents in Hetty's office. "Why are they all...smiling?"

Callen observes the scene in surprise. "And laughing. And _hugging_. That's some lecture; are you positive you don't want to tell me about it?"

"I don't think they're being given a lecture," Sam says, his eyes following Deeks, Kensi, and Hetty as the move out of the small office and towards the bullpen.

"Then what're they being given?" Callen asks frustratedly.

"Congratulations," Hetty responds, a grin on her face as she leads Kensi and Deeks into the team's work-space. "They're being given congratulations."

"For what?" questions Callen. A blush rises on Kensi's face - a rare occurrence that raises suspicion from the older two agents. To their equal shock, Deeks subtly reaches for her hand. And most surprising of all, she doesn't protest or attempt to pull away.

"Would you care to do the honors, Mr. Deeks?" Hetty looks inquiringly at the detective, who squirms uneasily.

"What, you're not man enough?" Kensi teases. "Toughen up, Deeks, seriously."

"You're really going to have to stop calling me Deeks," the liaison reminds her.

"Why?" Sam frowns.

Deeks begins, "Yesterday night, Kensi and I took a trip to a pier not far from here-"

"Why were you on a _pier_?" Callen asks, more perplexed by the second.

"Getting to that," says Deeks assuredly. "Anyway, so we were on the pier when we were confronted by an escaped criminal named Wesley Farthinge. I busted him ten years ago for a bank robbery - guess he kept a pretty deep grudge. He and some armed scumbags of his cornered us last night."

"What happened?" Sam's confusion turns to mild worry and interest.

"Well, what would've happened is that they'd have shot us and thrown us into the ocean," Deeks replies casually. "Lucky for us, one of Farthinge's minions was an undercover LAPD officer."

"And that's great and all that you're both okay," Callen tells them. "But what does this have to do with holding hands and not calling you Deeks?"

Kensi's blush moves to the tips of her ears, and she finally says, "Deeks - fine, _Marty _- proposed on the pier last night."

There is a stunned and unbelieving silence in the bullpen as Sam and Callen attempt to process this bit of information.

"Proposed," repeats Sam. "As in, proposed _marriage_? To _you_?"

"And you said _yes_?" Callen asked Kensi incredulously.

"If she didn't want to accept, she'd probably have killed me, so..." Deeks looks at his partner with a sly smile. "Obviously."

"Callen, did I fall asleep at my desk?" Sam wonders.

"I was thinking the same thing," admits Callen.

"So," Deeks announces. "Who wants to be best man? Draw straws?"

* * *

"Kens, you're cutting off my circulation."

Kensi loosens her grip on Callen's arm a bit. "Sorry, Callen, but I'm just so _excited_!"

"Nervous, too?" he asks, shuffling his feet as they stand at the back of the church. He gets his answer as Kensi eyes the pews of guests fearlessly.

"With Deeks, of course not," Kensi snorts. "I mean, Marty. Gotta get into the habit of using his first name. Does my dress look okay?"

"That's the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes you've asked me that," Callen informs her. "And yeah, it looks great."

"Good," Kensi nods, looking down at the white, pristine wedding gown. It's almost Elven-like, the way it moves as she walks. "Remember, we've got to start walking as soon as the music plays."

"I remember," Callen says. "I was here for the rehearsal."

"Right," she nods again. "Where is everyone sitting?"

"Hetty and your mother are in the front pew," Callen recites. "Your cousins and aunt are in the row behind them, and Deeks's friends are in the other set of pews."

"He didn't invite many people," Kensi sighs. "I guess he just doesn't have that many friends. It's not a huge issue."

"It's good that Ray could come, though," Callen notes positively. "I think we all knew Deeks would pick him as his best man."

"Sam and Eric dress up really well, don't they?" observes Kensi with a grin as she looks at the front of the church, where Ray and the other groomsmen stand. Her bridesmaids - Nell, Ray's wife Jenna, and Kensi's old friend Monica - are situated on the other side of the altar. Deeks, who looks as clean as he'll ever get, flashes a reassuring smile down the aisle at her.

All at once, the organ starts to play, and Kensi re-tenses her grip on Callen's arm.

"Relax," the senior agent commands her, linking them elbow-in-elbow and tugging her along gently. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Kensi swallows, makes herself take a breath, and then tentatively steps forward. "Let's go."

And then she's doing it - she's actually walking down the aisle. All these years of wishing and daydreaming - from with Jack to with Deeks - and now it's finally happening. She plants each step directly in front of the next, and notes each of the sensations she's experiencing. The carpet soft under her new shoes, the organ's slow and muted tune gracing her ears, the fabric of Callen's tailored suit brushing her linked arm as he walks her to the altar. And best of these sensations, the elation in her soaring heart as she finally steps up next to Deeks, Callen releasing her and moving to his position with the other groomsmen. The joy that surges through her veins as naturally as blood as she stares into his blue eyes.

And the tears that come to her own as she at last gets to say, "I do."

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**A/N: Did you like it? Please let me know in a review! Thanks for reading! :) -V.**


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